Wyvern and Company (21 page)

Her reported death, anyway.

Five years into her career, she'd been attacked by a deranged
fan, who'd flung acid in her face. Back in the 1920s, plastic surgery wasn't as
viable an option as it is now. She'd been disfigured throughout her career, but
it hadn't affected her voice. On records and on the radio, her voice was just
as lovely as she'd once been. She'd refused public appearances afterward, and
hid from the press and photographers.

She'd died of a sudden heart attack in the fifties.

Or so we thought.

I was married to Renée Mendenhall. My anger began to rise
because she hadn't told me.

Jealousy was no longer a part of me, but when Merrill kissed
her cheek after an incredible performance of
Nessun Dorma
, I realized
that he'd known, somehow. Griffin likely was behind Merrill's knowledge of her
former life, and I had no trouble including those two in my increasing temper.

I walked out of the church without a word to Kiarra or the
boys. Let her
Look
for me if she wanted; I intended to stalk the streets
of New York for a while.

* * *

Justin's Journal

Mack and I usually listen to rock music. Rap once in a while.
Mom blew us away, and we didn't even listen to the kind of music she sang.

The thing was—both those songs would have made Grampa Frank
happy. Somewhere, wherever he was, I hoped he could hear them.

Dad, though, stormed out of the church with an angry look on
his face and that worried me. Mack noticed too, but didn't say anything,
although he did call his dad after we got back to Merrill's apartment.

I gave him privacy and didn't listen in, although Mom sent
mindspeech, telling me that Mack's dad was working during the day and hunting
spawn with the Fresno pack at night, so he wasn't getting much sleep.

She didn't say anything about Dad's defection, probably
because she didn't want me to worry. I could tell she was worried though, even
when she tried to hide it. I should have mentioned it or said something.
Hindsight—again.

* * *

Grampa Frank's funeral was a celebration of his life. During
the memorial video, I saw photographs of him when he was little; some of them
showing him holding an adult's hand, but the adult was never included in the
picture.

I knew it was Merrill.

When Mom sang, though, people wept and I got chills, it was so
beautiful and haunting.

Dad had shown up at the last minute, wearing a really
expensive suit and shoes I'd never seen before. He looked different. I couldn't
define how he was different, but something had changed.

Mom, for her performance, wore a black evening dress that made
her platinum hair shine. I was so proud of her then—as if what she was doing required
more courage than it took to fight spawn or the Ra'Ak that made them.

Sometime soon, she would show everybody that she was pregnant,
but for now, nobody knew unless they'd been told.

"Mom looks amazing," Mack whispered beside me, so I
nodded in agreement.

Merrill and Joey seem so alone up there
, he added in
mindspeech.

They were, sitting on the front row together, shoulder to
shoulder, as Grampa Franklin's only family.
We should be sitting with them
,
I sent back.

Once Mom finished singing, she stepped off the stage at the
front and exited through a side door. I assumed she'd join Mack and me at the
back of the church where we sat.

She never came. I wish I'd worried about it then. I didn't. I'd
never make that mistake again.

* * *

Adam's Journal

Kiarra didn't come to sit with me after she sang the second
song. I couldn't blame her for that, as I'd refused to speak to her since early
morning and didn't let her know where I was all day.

Yes, part of the day I'd spent in London at the apartment I
kept there, still, and chose to wear one of the custom suits hanging in that
closet, paired with Italian-made shoes. I'd been allowed to keep my assets when
I was made Saa Thalarr. Kiarra's, or Renée Mendenhall's—had been carefully
portioned out to charities according to her will.

What she had now, she'd earned as a member of the Saa Thalarr.
I had no idea why I was so upset about it, but I was. I should have been more
upset that she didn't come to sit with Justin and Mack after her performance,
but I wasn't.

More the fool, I.

* * *

It wasn't until the service was over that I understood how
much damage I'd done. Merrill and Joey sat at the front, accepting condolences
from those who passed Franklin's coffin, but Joey had the presence of mind, at
least to let me know.

Kiarra has disappeared from my healer's radar
, he
informed me.
What did you do, Adam? She's on the run
.

* * *

Merrill's Private Journal

My heart couldn't take another blow; therefore, Kiarra's
disappearance almost destroyed me.

Whatever rift Adam created had hurt her greatly. If Franklin
hadn't requested that she sing at his funeral, I would never have asked. When I
did, she'd turned pale, making me realize how much it would cost her to perform
in public.

I'd read her biography, after all, and several musicians and
sound technicians all described how she'd hide her face whenever she was forced
to go out, and how they'd cringe at the first sight of her when she removed the
scarf to sing in the studio.

My heart wept for her. And for me.

Kiarra did not resemble the vibrant young diva she'd been when
she was young—then she'd had dark hair, gray eyes and a heart-shaped face. I
believe she'd asked those who'd brought her to the Saa Thalarr to make her
different so none could recognize her.

Her refusal to sing was for the same reason—to keep anyone
from knowing who she was before. She'd reportedly passed from this world alone,
unmarried and still virgin.

Griffin told me once, when he'd been drinking, that her first
experience with sex was when Saxom raped her. I cursed him again, for perhaps
the thousandth time.

More than grateful when the last of the mourners had come and
gone, I turned to Joey, who'd gone pale.

"Where do you suppose she is?" I asked. Yes, I knew
she was gone, I just had no idea where.

"I don't know," he wiped tears away with trembling
fingers. "I just sent mindspeech to Adam, giving him the news. He caused
this."

I cursed—fluently—in Latin. It was my native language, after
all, and as a former centurion for the Roman Legion, I could do it with
unparalleled vehemence.

Franklin—my child, lay in a coffin feet away, the love of my
life had disappeared and I wanted—more than anything—to strangle Adam Chessman
at that moment.

"She is draining her shields to keep us from knowing
where she is, and that is a very dangerous thing," Pheligar appeared
beside us. I wondered that he'd come to Joey and me instead of to Adam, but he
answered my mental question quickly.

"Do not think for a moment that you can hide your
feelings for her from a Larentii," he huffed. I noticed, then, that his
skin appeared more gray than blue. He was terrified for some reason, and I had
no explanation for it.

Any color left in Joey's face drained away at that moment—my
secret had been revealed to him at last. How could he not have known? How?

Franklin knew, but I'd confided in him long ago. He knew I
drank more heavily after seeing her—whenever I was invited for a visit. I'd
spent twenty Christmases with her and Adam, always receiving lovely gifts and
warm kisses on my cheek.

That was nice but never what I truly wanted.

"Fuck," I breathed in irritation.

Franklin had requested cremation after the funeral, therefore
no graveside service was scheduled. He wanted his ashes scattered on the garden
behind the manor house in Kent, and that would take place soon.

It could be put on hold, however, while I went in search of
Kiarra.

"We will begin our search now," Pheligar declared. "Use
every bit of knowledge you have. She is alone, virtually powerless and in more
danger than she realizes."

He disappeared after that, while Joey wrapped his arms about
my waist and wept.

"Child, it will be all right," I soothed, cradling
his head against my chest. I only hoped that my words would prove to be truth
instead of the hollow promise they seemed.

* * *

Adam's Journal

I stood on the sidewalk while Justin and Mack looked to me for
comfort and support. At that moment, I began to realize what Kiarra was to all of
us. A rock. A comfort. Someone who watched over all of us like a guardian
angel.

I was a fool.

Stop behaving like a fool and look for her!
Pheligar's
voice echoed in my mind.
She is not responding to my mindspeech. We will
have words, vampire, if any harm comes to her
.

It wasn't the first time he'd threatened me, but it hadn't
happened in a very long time. He hadn't called me vampire in a long time,
either. I learned early on that from him, it was a derogatory remark.

It hit me then—because my heart squeezed in my chest. She had
no power, was alone and pregnant and running from my temper. I'd allowed my
foolishness to shove aside my love for her, thinking that it was my right to
know everything, no matter how painful it might be for her to reveal those things.

If I'd just waited for her to tell me—she said she would—I
could have held and comforted her through the terrible memories. I hadn't acted
as a husband and a mate, I'd been a belligerent, overbearing fool.

"Son, we have to look for your mother," I said to
Justin, but I included Mack as I pulled both of them close.

"Where would she go?" Mack's voice wobbled. Yes, he'd
been abandoned by one mother already. With everything else that had happened to
him, this could destroy the young werewolf.

As it would destroy me.

"Let's go back to Merrill's," I said, my voice
nearly as unsteady as Mack's. "She doesn't have the power to fold space,
so she can only travel by normal means. I hope she hasn't gone far."

I folded the three of us back to Merrill's brownstone and
found Merrill and Joey there ahead of us. I will never forget the look he
leveled against me as he held Joey close—Joey wept openly and refused to look
at me.

Lion and Dragon appeared quickly—Lion was more worried than I'd
ever seen and Dragon looked ready to kill.

Yes, that look was directed at me and I imagined he'd have
taken me by the throat and unleashed his wrath if Mack and Justin hadn't been
with me.

"Where do we look first?" Lynx appeared and brought
all of us back to the present. I was grateful for his interruption, as things
had gone decidedly tense in Merrill's kitchen. I was Fourth and a former vampire,
but I couldn't fight the Second and Third among the Saa Thalarr and hope to
come away alive and whole afterward.

"She needs transportation if she wants to leave us this
badly," Merrill looked pale as he made that announcement. "I suggest
we begin by checking cab companies, rental car agencies and her credit-card
usage."

Joey nodded and pulled away from Merrill, wiping tears as he
moved aside. "I'll get my laptop," he said. "We can make the
kitchen our command center. Justin, you and Mack can help. Get your tablets and
we'll find out what we can. The rest of you—start folding to likely places.
Figure out where she could have walked by now and go there, first."

"I'll go out in the Range Rover," Merrill said and
strode toward the front door. "Joseph, send mindspeech if you get any
information."

"I will," he agreed. "Immediately."

He didn't include me in his brief nod. I wanted to curse, but
I deserved what I was getting. Justin and Mack raced toward their shared
bedroom to bring their tablets and I was grateful Joey included them in the
search. Being busy was so much better than sitting and worrying.

* * *

Justin's Journal

"Has this ever happened before?" Mack whispered as
we trotted down the hallway toward our bedroom.

"No," I said. I wanted to shiver—Mom and Dad had a
few disagreements in the past, but those usually blew over pretty quick and
they'd never seemed serious anyway. Things were now deadly serious—we'd seen
the looks on Dragon's and Lion's faces, Uncle Merrill was ready to throttle
somebody, Joey had been crying and Dad suddenly looked lost.

* * *

Larentii Archives

"Can you tell me anything?" Pheligar begged Somagar,
eldest of the Wise Ones as Nefrigar stood by, listening.

"I ask you this—why did you wait so long to come to me?"
Somagar, so ancient he appeared more light than physical body, answered with a
question of his own. "You made a mistake in waiting. Find her quickly,
Liaison, as the continuation of the Wise Ones depends upon this."

"Are you telling me that my child will," Pheligar
began, a hope in his eyes that Nefrigar had never seen before.

"I tell you nothing—find the woman first, then I may tell
you what you wish to know," Somagar rumbled, his hand held aloft to stave
off Pheligar's question. "You were foolish to mute the M'Fiyah. Now the
future dangles by a fragile strand. Find her before the enemy does."

* * *

Grey House

"What is this?" Glendes Grey looked up from the
paperwork on his desk as several small boxes were laid before him. He
blinked—he never expected to see the one standing in his study. It had been so
long, after all, since anyone had seen Kalenegar of the Larentii. He was almost
a myth, even to many of his own race.

"This is the order you will fill for Kiarra of the Saa
Thalarr," Kalenegar rumbled. "These are gifts, made by your own
wizards—in the future. See that they are delivered to her mate, Adam Chessman,
very soon. Names are inscribed on the bottom of each box. Do not forget, or you
will face the wrath of the Larentii."